Perfect Illusion
by Shiny Ryuichi Sakuma
Summary: Seven years post-Hogwart’s, Harry stumbles across a familiar blond in Muggle England, not expecting to find his life becoming different from what it used to be and all that he once knew, becoming fiction. Slash. Yaoi. HPxDM
1. Chapter One

Title: Perfect Illusion

Disclaimers: Not mine

Warnings: Male X Male

Summary: Seven years post-Hogwart's, Harry stumbles across a familiar blond in Muggle England, not expecting to find his life becoming different from what it used to be.

_They stand with their arms tightly around each other  
a mixture of flesh, so rich in days  
where the sea touches the land  
she wants to tell him the truth_

_But the wind eats her words  
where the sea ends  
she holds his hand, trembling  
and kissed him on the forehead_

_She carries the evening in her chest  
and knows that she must wither away  
she lays her head in his lap  
and asks for a last kiss_

_and then he kissed her  
where the sea ends  
her lips, delicate and pale  
and his eyes tear up_

_The last kiss was so long ago  
the last kiss  
he does not remember it anymore_

_**Rammstein- Nebel**_

Chapter One

"Oh, piss off!" Harry Potter, savior of the world, bellowed to a car that he'd narrowly escaped from being hit by. Didn't anyone adhere to the color of the lights at the intersection? The former student angrily shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he stalked across the street. Much had changed for the Boy-Who-Lived in the past seven years since he completely annihilated every square inch of Voldemort into a pile of ashes. For one, he was twenty-four yet he carried the wisdom of man thrice his age with the hell he'd been through his entire life. His personality was the same except for the fact that he no longer tried to be the man that the wizard population had sculpted him into. He was himself and was free to do as he pleased without hiding the truth behind his Gryffindor bravery. With all that had been lost, it was a miracle that Harry had remained sane but Harry chose not to delve into the past and those that were dead. Instead, he embraced the fact that _he_ was still alive and that those closest to him were alive as well. He would see those that had sacrificed himself for the cause in another life; he was positive of that.

The greatest change about Harry Potter was his appearance. He no longer wore those atrocious glasses but had went to a wizard specialist to have his vision repaired magically. The enchanting emerald eyes were even more vivid with the tiny swirls of obsidian and garnet floating near the pupils; a gift from Voldemort when the bastard had been finally defeated. He retained the scar prominent on his forehead but it no longer brought searing pain to him. Instead, it was a constant reminder of what had occurred in the past. His hair was as disheveled as always, the color having deepened into the darkest sable that glinted different shades of navy in the light. He was extremely tall, finally having grown into his height and was almost a couple inches taller than Severus. He was as slender as he'd been during school but with seven years of professional Quidditch had toned his muscles into the body of a god. Bronzed flesh was completely unblemished; underneath the layers of clothing was different story. Gashes marred his chest, arms, back, and legs. Though most of the scars had faded to being almost undetectable, those who did have the fortune of witnessing Harry's all too rare moments of being bare-chested in front of his friends, couldn't help but feel pity towards him at the obvious amount of suffering he'd endured during that final battle.

Quitting Quidditch had been Harry's decision. Albus had pleaded with him to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts and Harry had to oblige once Albus had told him that Hermione was expecting her and Ron's third child. So, much to Puddlemere's extreme disappointment, Harry had gave them his resignation just a week ago. Oliver Wood had tried to convince Harry to stay but his wheedling was met with a stony glare. It was still three weeks until school started and Harry had yet to come up with a course plan which was why he was in Muggle England in the first place. Remus Lupin visited a particular sweets shop every single day and had been since he was a boy according to Severus. Remus was a chocolate addict as opposed to Severus's coffee addiction and Harry's own obsession with all foods containing hazelnut. It was site better than being an alcoholic or druggie.

_Kitty's _was a quaint little shop in London and catered to wizards as well as Muggles. The woman who owned _Kitty's_ was a witch herself. A tiny, petite little thing that adored Remus and Harry both to death and often didn't bother with being paid for her delicious sweets. Severus, on the other hand, was often shooed from the shop with a broom. Despite Remus's undying devotion towards Severus, it was hard for most to accept the fact that the lovely werewolf had managed to be ensnared by the sarcastic and terrible Potions Master. However, Harry knew that it was true love and that Remus had needed Severus's company at the time; it had been several months after Sirius's death that Severus had decided that it was time to make it known his lust for Remus. Over the years, the lust had turned into a mutual respect and love that Harry envied. It was a relationship that most people searched for but never could find. Harry being one of them. Although he'd had his fair share of relationships over the course of nine years staring with the entire sordid Cho affair, he had yet to find someone that made his life worthwhile.

All of Harry's remaining friends alive had paired into their respective relationships. Hermione and Ron. Lavendar and Seamus. Ginny and Dean. Oliver and the twins (Harry often wondered how _exactly_ that relationship worked but he tried not to muse too much on it.) Neville and Parvati (who saw _that_ one coming?! Harry surely hadn't.) Luna and Blaise. Justin and Hannah. Harry sighed. Everyone was so _damn_ happy that it had Harry's teeth chattering. Perhaps it was his time to find the one that made his life special. It was hard though, when you were regarded merely for your appearance, money, and because you incidentally saved the world from a madman bent on genocide of the planet. The women interested in him had two heads; one on their shoulders and one in his wallet. It was highly disconcerting.

Before Harry knew it, he had collided with a solid structure and ungracefully fell onto his bottom. Frowning, Harry glanced at what he'd ran into only to blink dazedly. It was a person. It was rare that _anyone_ could knock into him and make him fall considering how tall he was. Harry stared dumbly at the man. He recognized the man from some place, a distant memory in his mind. The most vivacious eyes that Harry had seen in his life peered into his own and Harry was disturbed by the deathly, eerie, calmness of the silver and sapphire eyes with the faintest flecks of ebony and ivory. Discovering that he was staring at another man, Harry blushed profusely. "I apologize. I wasn't paying any attention. Are you alright? It was a shock that you managed to-"

Harry was interrupted by the man's snort. The man with the lovely eyes rose to his feet and Harry couldn't see _why_ he'd fallen in the first place unless the impact had been more intense then Harry had thought. The man barely reached Harry's shoulders and was slender but Harry could tell that he was no weakling; that was evident in the ripple of lean muscle as the man stretched the arm he'd fallen on. Harry glanced at him suspiciously, _knowing_ he'd seen the other man before. The flaxen strands of hair primly tied into a loosely flowing ponytail, a few locks framing the elfin face. A long, pale scar went from the man's right eyebrow, across his aristocratic nose, to his left cheekbone. Now _that _was familiar but from where? Harry damned Voldemort for the slight amnesia he'd had upon waking from his three month long coma. "I'm fine and there's no need to apologize. It doesn't suit you." The man smirked, about to turn away and leave.

"What do you mean by that?" Harry demanded, brows furrowing and a scowl on his face.

The man patiently rolled his eyes. "Absolutely nothing. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to finish my errands without any further interruptions. Is that alright with you?" Dumbstruck, Harry watched as the blond man walked towards _Kitty's._ Harry followed, having the same intent of going there as the mysterious man. The man laughed. "Do I have a stalker now?"

"No," Harry glowered. "I'm meeting a friend at _Kitty's_. Is it a crime to walk on the same sidewalk as you, your worship?"

"Oh please forgive me for not admitting to a common peasant that this sidewalk is reserved only for nobility," the man jibed, throwing his hands into the air mockingly. The peculiar hued eyes slanted marginally at Harry's icy glare. "You know, you take being offended quite terribly. Are you above being slandered in return for your own teasing?"

Harry felt irritated and berated himself for doing so towards a stranger. Most people, _all _people, couldn't rile him like this infuriating man was. In fact, Severus was about the only one that remotely could irk him into wanting to snap his head off. It was a relief that at least Severus's attitude towards Harry hadn't changed one bit since he and Remus became a couple. "You started this. You shouldn't provoke people. It's annoying."

The man's laugh was bells to Harry's ears. The wizard mentally pinched himself. This was a _man_. "You're right. I shouldn't but it's entertaining to see the reactions that my oblivious prey have. You're queer. Queer haha and queer strange."

"Oh, I'm honored I've managed to make you laugh at my own expense. Can I at least have your name in return for my services rendered?" Harry smirked at his own creativeness. He was used to battling verbally with the best of them; Severus was the king of sarcastic and witty comebacks. "Or are you afraid I'll stalk you should you give me your name?"

"You couldn't stalk me if you tried," the man simply stated, confusing Harry. "You can call me Tom." The blond pushed the door open to _Kitty's_. 'Tom' immediately went to the section with the fritters. Harry gazed at Tom, pursing his lips in contemplation. Did he want to harass the man more or did he want to wait on Remus?

Harry's decision was made for him as the small witch that hardly reached Harry's waist ventured forth into her shop. She reminded Harry of the Sugarplum Fairy. Her curly hair was a violent shade of magenta that clashed creepily with her gold eyes. Most Muggles had no idea that Dotty was a witch until they glimpsed the slight angle of Dotty's ears-another aspect of her that had Harry envisioning her with wings and a glittering wand, sprinkling fairy dust on everyone and fattening them with delicious treats. "Oh, Mister Potter! Mister Lupin just sent postage that he would be a bit late. Apparently Mister Snape injured himself while performing a difficult concoction. Hallo, Mister Tom! I haven't seen you in a while. Where have you been hiding?"

Tom laughed, sampling an apple fritter. "I've been around. I realized that your cooking was making me fat, Dotty. You should be ashamed of yourself." Tom grinned at the sheepishly blushing Dotty. Harry frowned at the altercation. "Serious, I've been busy with moving to another city. I was hoping to kidnap you and hire you as my personal chef."

Dotty squealed. "Oh, Mister Tom! You're a terrible flirt!" Dotty blushed bright pink. "I can't leave my shop and Mister Potter and Mister Lupin. The poor men, they'd starve without me, you know? He needs fattening up!" Dotty prodded Harry's brick hard abdominal plane. "All muscle and no fluffiness. How on earth does any woman stand that?"

Tom couldn't restrain his chuckles as Harry indignantly touched his stomach. "Dotty, I thought women liked muscle. Why would you say I need to be fat?" Harry pouted, feeling a tad bit hurt by the insult of his strenuous work to make himself perfect.

"Apparently you haven't seen Dotty's husband. How a man like that landed a lovely lady like yourself is beyond my comprehension." Tom patted Dotty's curly head, avoiding the small woman's fists. "He's a swell bloke but is far too serious."

"How long have you known each other?" Harry inquired, a bit envious of Dotty and Tom's close friendship.

"Seven years," Dotty answered. "He was starving when I found him in the alley behind my shop. I was terrified but there was an aura to him that I trusted. I fed him, let him stay here until he was rested and just as quickly as he'd entered my life, he vanished but he came back and that's all that matters."

"Dotty, you tell everyone that when you meet them. I hardly think that Mister Potter wants to hear about by gone days. That was years ago. Anyway, I have to be going now. I have several more errands to finish before I can relax. Well, it was nice meeting you, Mister Potter. Perhaps we'll meet again some day." Tom sent Harry an undecipherable look as he kissed Dotty's head.

"My name's Harry."

"I see. Harry Potter," Tom spoke the name as if testing it's ability to roll off his tongue. However, there was a sudden gleam to Tom's eyes that had Harry blinking at distinguishing what it meant. With a wave to Dotty, Tom left _Kitty's_.

"I'm surprised you and Tom haven't met before," Dotty said, completely serious. "He comes here several times a day. Speaking of not having seen people around, you've haven't visited for a couple weeks. Everything all right in the wizard world or has another Dark Lord risen to power?" Dotty took a seat on one of the barstools at the counter.

Harry joined her, leaning his head into his hand as he rested his elbow on the countertop. "Everything's fine and no, there isn't another Dark Lord. I quit playing Quidditch due to Albus desperately seeking someone to replace Hermione because she's pregnant. Again. Merlin, how Ron handles their two kids is admirable but to actually want another one? He's insane. I figure by the time Hermione's unable to have children, he'll have beaten his own family's large numbers. Five years married and already three kids. Amazing. It almost makes me want to find me a wife to bear my kids."

"Oh Harry, you're so silly." Dotty giggled. "If I was any other woman I might have slapped you for saying that. Women aren't vessels for children. Ron loves Hermione and he loves the fact that he's a father. You mustn't forget, those involved in the War still remember what it was like to live each day like it was the last. It's possible that they forget that Voldemort's dead."

"Or Ron's Weasley gene is telling him to constantly reproduce."

"Your time will come," Dotty smiled. "Your luck with women is terrible. Why not try men for a while?"

Harry almost choked on the hazelnut biscotti he was eating. "What?! Are you a closet pervert or something, Dotty? You want me to bat for the same team and give up women for the rest of my life never to have children and-"

"You know that's not what I meant. I'm only saying that given your track record with women, that it might due you well to explore other options." Dotty smiled wanly. "Who knows? You might prefer the company of men to women. It's not that much of taboo any more in the wizard world and in some parts of the Muggle world it's wholly accepted." Dotty sighed at Harry's lost expression. "I'm not saying you have to end your relations with women. Just think about it. Oh, look, here comes Remus. I better make him some hot chocolate."

The site of Remus completely drove Dotty's suggestion from his mind for the moment. The werewolf looked more cheerful then Harry had seen him in a while. The deep, golden strands streaked with mocha and silver was once again trimmed to Remus's graceful throat. The kind, amber eyes were full of warmth yet always guarded due to the wolf living inside. He was still thin and Harry figured Remus would always be on the slender side but his lack of weight suited his just-a-little-smaller then average frame. "Hullo, Harry. I'm relieved that you look well. I had thought with your quitting Quidditch you might look a little worse for the wear."

"I'm fine with that. It was getting a little annoying anyway. Not only am I accosted for being the Boy-Who-Won but now as Quidditch's Golden Boy? I'm tired of being recognized. That's why I'm a little apprehensive to return to Hogwart's and teach. I doubt the students will even pay attention once they see me. It irritates the shit out of me."

Remus nodded sympathetically. "You'll just have to make them understand that you don't want that even if you must scream at them. Most of them were just children when the war reached it's zenith. The only reason they even _know_ who you are is because of what they've been told or what they've learned in the history books."

Harry grunted, a hand sliding through his hair. "You're right, of course. You always are. How's our dear Severus? Dotty said that he'd injured himself?"

Remus sheepishly blushed, stirring his hot chocolate. "I was distracting him from performing a rather difficult potion. Instead of mixing nightshade, he added belladonna. The result was a rather nasty explosion that blistered his arm." Harry clucked disapprovingly. Remus frowned. "Severus should have more control in his lustful urges by now. It's not _entirely_ my fault, you know."

"Never! Who would dare to incriminate Moony?" Harry teased, stealing a marshmallow floating in Remus's drink and popping it into his mouth. "It's not your fault that you're so damn sexy that it turns Severus's head when your around. You should know better, Remus. Anyway, I was wondering something before we get to business. Do you a tall, blond bloke named Tom that comes here?"

Remus shook his head. "I haven't heard of anyone by that name. Why?"

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Dotty seemed familiar with him so I thought you might as well. I brought you here to help me plan my curriculum. I've never been a teacher before and your expertise in the area would be most appreciated." Harry grinned lazily at Remus though internally, he wanted to know who Tom was and why he seemed so familiar.

.xxx.

5 pages. I did well. Yes, I am aware this is a new story and I deeply apologize. When plot bunnies decide to mate rapidly in my cluttered mind, I can't make them stop until I write my story down for all to read.

Please Review. It makes a starving author very happy.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Harry Potter sighed, checking the digits floating in mid-air above the surly looking satyr for the umpteenth time. Severus was late. Again. Lately, the Potions Masters had been increasingly forgetful of his appointments with him. Harry shuddered. Probably him and Remus doing the horizontal tango and in the midst of their coitus, Severus's last thought would be his lunch date with Harry. The Golden Unicorn was the premier wizard-ring restaurant for highly prestigious citizens that could afford nearly a day's pay in one appetizer. Of course, for Harry, he was treated as royalty and as such wasn't expected to adhere to spending any bit of monies for The Golden Unicorn's services. The owner was thrilled to have such a renowned client to be seen in his company. For Harry, it was just another inconvenience. Why should he be treated specially just because he defeated the Dark Lord? What about those that were no longer alive? Their sacrifices were greater then Harry's, shouldn't they be honored? No, there wasn't even a plaque or dedication to those that were dead because of the War. It irritated Harry to no end but that was how things were now.

"Fancy meeting you here," a voice behind Harry nearly sent him several feet into the air. Smirking at Harry was Tom, the man that had been plaguing Harry's thoughts haphazardly since their meeting nearly a week before. There was just something familiar about Tom that Harry couldn't decipher but oh did he want to. There was nothing as annoying as having an unanswerable question that seemed to be just as complex and riddle-some as an ancient mystery still in the wait to be solved after millennia of contemplation. Harry couldn't help himself as his eyes strayed over Tom's impeccably pressed black suit, highlighting the blonde's appearance wonderfully. A gold brow rose. "You were certainly more talkative last week. Don't tell me that you're shy all of a sudden." Myriad-hued eyes twinkled at Harry amusingly.

_That_ snapped Harry from his ogling. "I'm _not_ shy. I just…didn't expect to ever see you again, that's all." Why on Earth was he blushing like a prepubescent school boy with his first crush? Clearing his throat, Harry gazed interestingly at a couple dancing on the gilded floor, ignoring Tom's beautiful eyes. "So, what brings _you_ here?" Realizing how incredibly awful that sounded, Harry's flush deepened. "I didn't mean anything by that I was just wondering why you'd be here because this place isn't exactly fitting for someone of your station. No, um, not _that_ but from how Dotty was talking I didn't think you had that much money. Oh hell. I mean-"

Tom laughed, holding up his hand in an effort to prevent Harry from making a bigger fool of himself. Harry immediately clamped his mouth shut. "It's quite alright. That was seven years ago when Dotty found me, an orphan. I've made my own name within the ranks of both the Muggle and Wizard world. Much like yours except, I'm afraid, my name isn't known in every household from here to Hell. I was to have lunch with a client but it would seem that he hasn't arrived yet. Tardiness is unacceptable, I'll have to raise the prices," Tom said more to himself then Harry. "Would you care to dine with me until both our respective dates grace us with their presence?"

"Oh! Mister Potter, what a pleasant surprise to see you today!" The maitre d' interrupted the men from their conversation. The man was practically glowing with pleasure. "And Master Riddle!" He squealed in excitement at having not one but two celebrities. "Oh my goodness, I have one of the best seats here at the Golden Unicorn reserved specifically for you!"

"Master Riddle?" Harry inquired harshly, jade eyes narrowing at the blond suspiciously. "Tom Riddle? Either that's a fake name or you share Voldemort's Muggle name, which, I highly doubt because one Tom Riddle morphed himself into Voldemort, no one named their child Tom Riddle. So, who exactly are you, _Tom_?"

Tom smiled. "I'm afraid that isn't any of your business. Yes, this is an adopted name and yes, I used it because it _was_ Voldemort's name. My real identity became obsolete seven years ago when my family was taken away from me by the hands of Voldemort. That's all you need to know. Either you can forgive an orphan for his need for secrecy or you can waste your time trying to find out who I _really _am. Neither mean much to me because I have no need for friendly relationships and the latter is just as much as an indifference then the first for you'll never learn who I once was. No one will. Before you give me your pity trip," Tom growled as Harry's lips moved to speak, "Know that my _entire_ family was destroyed. I have nothing left of my former life. You, on the other hand, have your Muggle relatives and you have your precious friends."

Harry didn't speak as they were seated at the table closest to the open doors leading to the terrace, the fragrant winds drifting from the flowers. The man's alias was Tom Riddle and with what Harry had been told, 'Tom' had lost all that was dear to him because of Voldemort thus his reason to adopt Voldemort's former persona. So many had been abandoned due to the War that it was difficult for Harry to pinpoint any one person that shared Tom's story. The number of orphanages that had been made following the months after Voldemort's death had been numerous, far too numerous for Harry to count. Harry glanced at Tom from behind his flute of champagne. The secrets that Tom carried were deeper then perhaps Harry's own. Did he have the scars not only on his body but on his soul as well? Did that prevent him from pursuing any sort of romantic relationships like it did with Harry? There were too few that understood him but maybe, must maybe, Tom could but that would mean that Harry was thinking of Tom in more then a platonic manner.

"My story has offended your or disgusted you, hmm?" Tom asked, handing the maitre d' his menu. "I'm not surprised that it would. It's why I don't tell-"

"No." Harry smiled charmingly, resting his chin in his hand. Tom was taken aback. "It just makes me see that I'm not alone in having secrets that would scare normal people. It's a pretty huge relief to be honest. I thought I was insane so unless you're just as nuts as I am, I think I've found a familiar spirit that understands what I'm going through, _have _been going through for years. So, if isn't too much to ask, I'd like to get to know you better."

A darkness shadowed Tom's fair face. "I'm not sure about that, Harry. I don't want you to hate me should you somehow discover the truth and I don't want to have to hurt you. Dotty doesn't even know the truth. What makes you think I'd tell you?"

"Not yet but one day. We just have to become friends. My name is Harry Potter. I'm twenty-fours years old. I like Quidditch and long walks in the park after sunset. I enjoy children and despise almost nothing. I'm single, have no children, and my last relationship was five years ago with a woman that was after my money and my sperm in order to sire her kids. I love Christmas time and snow. Anything else you want to know?" Grinning, Harry popped one of the bruschetta into his mouth. He felt he should keep the information about his recent interest in homosexuality to himself. No point in scaring the man off.

"Well, it's only fair that I give you the same. I'm twenty-four as well and I like Quidditch too. I hate all things that have to do with Muggles. I hate all things that are cheery. I'm addicted to sweets. I'm an alcoholic. Hmm, I hate women and children. I've been single for eight years. I hate relationships and romance. That basically sums me up." Shrugging glibly, Tom downed the entire cocktail glass. "What's that look for? Would you rather I lie and sugar-coat who I actually am? If you can't deal with me, then maybe you should take back what you said about getting to know me."

"It doesn't bother me." Harry knew he was just lying through his teeth but he was bound and determined to keep by what he'd told Tom. Maybe, Harry could change him into liking all that he hated. Yes, and maybe donkey's would fly. Still, it never hurt to try and when Harry was faced with a challenge he always went through with it until the end, committing himself one hundred and ten percent. "What sort of thing do you do for a job? You said that your name was known throughout the world."

"Do you know what the Honey Bunny is?" Harry shook his head, looking adorably confused. Tom smiled thinly. "I'm not surprised. How about the Honey Bee?" Another negative nod. "Now, that does come as a shock. Most straight men have been there at least once in their life. The Honey Bee is an organization that caters to straight men. It's a dating service. The Honey Bunny is the same except it's designed for gay men. The Honey Bunny is the most popular of the two. I own both. My family's manor is the base for the European division. There are several hundred in the States and about fifty more in the rest of the world. The Honey Bee, on the other hand, is limited to one hundred world wide."

"So, what exactly does the Honey Bunny do? Arrange dates?"

"Why? Interested in becoming a client or perhaps you'd like to become a member?" Tom grinned at Harry's askance visage. "The members of the Honey Bunny range from sixteen to twenty-six, depending on the age of the client and their tastes. Yes, most of the business comes from closeted gay men wanting to find a date for a night, a few weeks, even months at a time. However, there are some clients who merely want sexual gratification and rely on Honey Bunny for that opportunity. It's not the most noble employment but the money is definitely worth it. You'd be surprised how much a man will pay in order to be accepted for who he is. My number one, a young man that's been with me for five years, goes for a thousand pounds per hour."

"That's certainly…different." Harry felt his cheeks warm. The talk of Tom's business was embarrassing and yet, definitely thought provoking. "How did you get involved with it? It's not a job that just comes to you every day."

"That's a tale for another day. What about you? It's been in every newspaper that you've quit Quidditch. Your reasons weren't clear."

"An old friend of mine is pregnant and I have to take up her job at Hogwart's. I'm not looking forward to. Actually, I'd rather be serving one of the men at Honey Bunny then teaching those irritable brats. Honestly, _me,_ teach kids who'd rather be flirting with me then learning."

"Just like school, huh?" Tom snickered.

"You knew me from school? How come I don't recognize you?"

"You do. You just don't know it yet." Tom sighed, walking to the terrace. Harry followed him, not positive one what he was supposed to do. The wind blew Tom's hair in odd directions and Harry could see a faint scar marring Tom's throat, a scar that stretched from the his temple to the delicate curvature of his jaw. It was jagged, as if someone had taken a dull knife to the flesh and hacked relentlessly, not caring about the victim. "Ugly, isn't it?" Harry started, not aware that he had been caught. Tom pressed a hand against the ancient wound. "What's worse, there's more. By all rights I should be dead right now but the sadistic bastard found it great entertainment to heal me and then redo all of his handy work," Tom spat. "You might think that you had it bad by just battling him and having in your head sometimes but I had it much, much worse. For a whole year, I was at Voldemort's disposal. All that he wanted, he took. He used my body as his pleasure vessel as well as his own carving board. He was _inside _of my mind _all_ the time. No, you got the better end of the deal. Always did. Always will."

"I understand and know what you went through." Harry placed a comforting hand on Tom's shoulder. "We're probably the only two that do know. The last two links to Lord Voldemort and all the evil that he represented. I think that some people forget what happened or they just didn't care because it didn't personally affect them. I used to think people were initially good but now, I know they're initially evil. They're full of sin and deceit."

"That isn't the Harry Potter I remember." Tom chuckled, elbows resting on the balcony's railing. "I wonder what else about you has changed since our school boy days."

"You'll just have to find out, won't you?"

"I guess I will." Harry was awestruck by Tom's serene smile. Not because it was the most gorgeous thing Harry had ever seen but because it was _real_ and because of that one itsy bitsy aspect, Harry felt he was going to faint from sheer emotional overload. There was no denying it now. Tom was the single most lovely being Harry had ever encountered during his life. From the ethereal eyes, to the skin that was so pale, it was ivory, and most especially the smile. Someone had once told Harry that a smile is the light in the window of the soul, indicating that heart is home. Never had truer words been spoken.

"There you are, Harry!" Both Tom and Harry spun around to see Severus and an unannounced Remus beside of him. Both older men cast Tom puzzled looks. "Vincent was ecstatic on having two of his favorite guests here but I didn't expect to find you here with him. You're going to have to tell me. I'm sure it's going to be hilarious."

"Well, you see, we met the other day and I knew I'd seen him before so I thought I should find out who he was and his name is Tom, by the way, but anyways we met here by accident and since both of our lunch dates were late, he asked me if I'd have lunch with him instead and it seemed like a good idea until I found out his last name is Riddle but then Tom told me some other stuff and we've been getting to know each other so-"

Severus pressed a finger against Harry's lips. "Inhale. Exhale. Good boy. I know who he is and I'm surprised that you didn't. I'm even more surprised that Mister Riddle didn't tell you himself in order to shock the hell out of you like he used to during school. Why, didn't you tell him, your real name? Is it because your dead to him or because you just don't want to remember your past with him?"

"What are you talking about? You know who he is?" Catching Remus's nervous grin, Harry frowned. "Why don't I know if you _both_ do?! I know that I had amnesia but Poppy told me that I've healed completely. I should know who Tom is but I don't."

Tom sighed, leaning against the stone. "I knew that Severus and Lupin would recognize me. Both have been in contact with me since I reappeared seven years ago. They're the ones that took me in and sheltered me until I was able to get together all of my monetary units at Gringott's. I'm confused as to why they never told you that I was found, alive. Not that we ever got along but any ties to the past were welcome at the time for you, even ones that you loathed. I was hoping my identity would remain a mystery until after you'd gotten too close to hate me but I suppose that fantasy isn't going to be played out. Fine, Severus, I know you're just _dieing_ to tell Harry the truth so go for it."

"No. I don't think I will. I want Harry to remember you on his own."

"No! I deserve to know!" Harry scowled.

"Harry, it's for the best that you _not_ know." Remus smiled, patting his shoulder. "he's not…well, he's not who used to be but any hostile memories could cause a relapse. Why don't we have our dinner-"

"Tell me," Harry's voice was a harsh bass as his eye hardened to shards of emerald glass. "I have to know. I want Tom to be the person that has filled my mind from time to time. I can never make out the person's face or his voice but something is telling me that the figure in my dreams _is_ Tom. Who are you? I want to hear it come from your own lips. I have to know."

"Draco Malfoy."

Draco Malfoy? Harry's eyes widened, shock taking his use of speech. Draco Malfoy, Voldemort's pet? The boy who used to antagonize Harry? Who used to pick fights? Who abhorred him with a vehemence that even put Voldemort's hatred to shame? The boy had given him a fleeting kiss just days before Voldemort's final defeat? It was that single action that had astounded Harry for there had been no malice in the kiss and in his eyes, there had been no hate. Just pure and utter adoration mingling with a love that shook Harry to his core. It was seeing Draco's supposed lifeless body fall to the ground that had prompted Harry into issuing the final curse to kill Voldemort. "It can't be."

* * *

Yes, a cliffhanger. Hate me all you want.


	3. Chapter Three

Title: Perfect Illusion

Warnings: Male/Male love rampant throughout!

Disclaimers: Totally not mine XD

Notes: After an extremely long hiatus I've started writing this one again. It's definitely AU and not at all compatible with the last two books. However, I hope this doesn't discourage you all from reading and reviewing!

Chapter Three

The silence that permeated the veranda was stifling and uncomfortable. Harry's mouth opened several times but no words came forth. He couldn't tear his eyes from the stunning blonde standing in front of him. Tom's-no _Draco's_-arms were crossed in front of his chest as he firmly met Harry's shocked gaze. All these years of dreams of a nameless face were revealed to be Draco Malfoy. How could he have forgotten _Draco_? Draco, the reason he'd summoned the strength to destroy Voldemort once and for all? Draco, the cause of so much confusion with that fleeting kiss?

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Draco's voice sliced through the tension blanketing the scene oppressively.

_A ghost that's been haunting my dreams_, Harry thought, one hand holding his stomach tightly as if to alleviate some of the nausea derived from the deluge of emotions that flooded him. "You might as well be," he said, a little too coldly, the harshness in his eyes a little too callous. "You didn't come find me. You didn't even send word that you were alive. I could have taken care of you. Why keep it from me?"

Draco sighed, glancing at the two older men watching the events unfold before them curiously. They took the hint and hastily returned to the interior of the establishment. "Look, Potter, there were things that happened between us that I didn't want to thrust on you. I didn't want to impose on your life. You were starting your Quidditch career and I knew that I would only be a hindrance. Besides, things would've been too awkward between us." Draco glanced away.

Harry shook his head, still coming to terms with that fact that his once hated rival had cheated death. He could still _feel_ Draco's lips against his even after all these years. "It's back to Potter?" he asked, sinking onto one of the patio chairs, the numbness in his legs causing him to be unsteady. "Do you even remember that day, Draco?" he queried softly.

"I knew I was going to die," Draco said, heart melting slightly at the pain dancing in Harry's expressive green eyes. "I knew that I wouldn't live to have to explain why I kissed you. When I woke up to find that I wasn't in Hell and that I was alive…I knew I couldn't let you discover I was alive."

"Why the hell not?"

Draco smirked at the anger in Harry's voice. Trust his moods to alter as fast as a hormone ridden woman. "What would you have done, Harry? Would you have welcomed me into your arms, into your life?" Draco joined Harry at the small table. "You were healing from your injuries; both physically and mentally."

"So?" Harry scowled.

"So?" Draco echoed, "You weren't well. Remus informed me of your amnesia. I wasn't going to cause any reactions that might have stunted your recovery. You might not have trusted me. You might've lashed out at me. I wasn't taking the chance."

"Then why'd you kiss me?" Harry asked bluntly, jaw set in determination, his famous stubborn streak rearing its head. He was confused and elated and pissed off all at the same time. How dare Draco believe he would have been an encumbrance? That he wouldn't have taken Draco in? That Draco had expected Harry to not remember their innocent kiss and focus only on the animosity that had existed for so long?

The blonde was quiet for several minutes as he stared at one of the rose bushes wafting in the breeze that wafted by. "Because I wanted you to know that I didn't hate you. I was attracted to you. It had scared the ever living shit out of me once I found out. I'd tried to deny it, that it must've been the result of some of Voldemort's mental torture on my psyche. I guess I couldn't die without letting you know that I'd loved you," the last words were whispered, the sound being carried on the air currents, mingling with the chatter emitting from the restaurant. "I'm going to give you some time to think about what I've told you." Draco set a business card down in front of Harry, scrawling a number in pen on it. "That's my personal line."

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat as Draco disappeared into the restaurant. His fury dissipated as he glanced at the number on the card. He was strangely ecstatic. He wasn't positive if it was about reuniting with a link to his past or that Draco had admitted that he'd loved him once. "Had loved me," Harry murmured underneath his breath, smelling the faint aroma of Draco's cologne lingering on the wind. Had he only been a passing fancy for the other man? Did any deep emotions exist within in for Harry now?

"Harry?"

Harry snapped from his musings, quickly tucking the card into his pocket. He glared at his friends. "I'm so mad at you two right now. You didn't bother telling me about Draco. That's pretty fucked up, you know that?" he snarled, his eyes tinting with an eerie shade of scarlet, another gift from Voldemort.

"We were only trying to protect you," Remus said, frowning. "You weren't on friendly terms with him during school. We felt that if we informed you that Draco was alive that you might relapse into a complete amnesia. Poppy felt it was better for you to remember everything on your own. You didn't remember Draco, Harry and we weren't going to remind you of him."

"You still had no right to keep me in the dark. I'm going home," he said, apparating from the building, leaving the couple alone.

"I think we made a mistake," Remus said, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe we missed something that might've happened between them. He seems very upset about our need for secrecy."

Severus shrugged as he enfolded Remus into his arms. "I think there's more to this then meets the eye but we can't interfere. Harry's responsible for his own actions. He isn't a boy anymore, Remus."

"I see him as that wide-eyed curious youth that I first met over a decade ago. I forget that's he's an adult. I want to protect him, Severus but I don't know how I can protect him from himself."

Severus placed a gentle kiss on the silver-streaked head beneath him. "You don't protect him. You let him learn for himself. It's admirable that you love him as a son. At some point all fathers have to let their children learn by themselves."

"I know. It's hard."

"Maybe one day we'll adopt a little girl or boy of our own and you can stop babying Harry all the time," Severus held Remus tighter, promising to every god that would listen to not take the beautiful werewolf from him any time soon, to grant them a long life together. They deserved it just as Harry deserved having his own bit of happiness.

…

The clouds lethargically floated whimsically in the blue vastness above. Harry sighed as he watched them form different shapes only to drift to other clouds seconds later and take on an entirely dissimilar appearance. Even the beauty of the Gardens of Euphonia couldn't placate Harry's raging thoughts. He knew that he was in the wrong to place all the blame on Severus and Remus. They had done only what they had seen fitting at the time to keep him from perhaps further damaging his mental stability.

But Draco? Harry frowned, hands fisting in a clump of grass beside him. Not that it would've even mattered because Harry had absolutely no recollection of Draco Malfoy except for their first years together. No, Harry surmised, he was angry because of Draco's smug attitude about the entire ordeal. Honestly, who was he to judge whether Harry would have turned psycho and murdered the blonde? Harry frowned. With his erratic emotions varying from confusion to loathsome ire to panic stricken denial; it would have been extremely difficult to decide Harry's reaction to Draco's miraculous 'resurrection.' Harry might've very well throttled Draco the second he'd woken.

Harry's eyes landed on several children playing near the lake, their kites suspended in the air, each one laughing gleefully as they kept their toys from plummeting to the ground. He missed the innocence he'd once had. The joy of being a child, to seeing the world through perpetual rose-colored lenses, to having one's only stress being about taking a bath or brushing one's teeth. It was a life-time ago though technically he'd never been a normal child. His relatives had hardly paid any attention to him but still, living under that cupboard, he'd at least been able to play make-believe like all the rest. Harry often wondered about Draco's childhood and how it shaped the man that he became. Had it been rough? Pleasant? Had he been spoiled beyond anything Harry could've comprehended?

He laid back, resting his arms underneath his head. Who would've ever guessed that Draco Malfoy would have plagued Harry Potter's mind so easily? But how could he not? That kiss was ages ago, a memory that had been trapped inside a solidly sealed box that had been waiting for the key to unlock it. It shouldn't have vexed him. He shouldn't give a damn about the kiss. Unfortunately, it was one of those complex riddles that kept pestering you until you eventually conceded and discovered its meaning.

Harry had never explored the mysteries of homosexuality. He'd heard of it, surely, with several of his friends being gay and bisexual. He wasn't a bigot and he certainly didn't condemn them for their actions. It was a don't ask, don't tell policy in the wizard world that reminded Harry of Muggle military. He'd never considered dating men. His relationship experiences originated from women only but that didn't mean he hadn't caught himself staring a bit too long at certain men to be thought proper. He'd blamed it on the increase in metrosexuals in London, that he was merely admiring another man's appearance for personal gain in the area of general aesthetic perfection.

But that kiss… God, the reawakening of his memories made it seem as if it were the day before and he could still feel Draco's lips against his. They'd been soft like marshmallow pillows that tasted of chocolate and honey. Harry unconsciously licked his lips. The fire that had spread through him that day was equally as strong as the inferno flickering at his nerves as he recollected the kiss.

"Imagine seeing you here."

Speak of the Devil, Harry thought, swiftly removing his hand to gaze into the amused face of Draco Malfoy. "What do you want?" he queried, raising himself up on his elbows. "Didn't you have enough entertainment yesterday at my expense?"

Draco laughed and shook his head. "Stop being such a drama queen."

"Me? A drama queen? That's stupid," Harry scowled, rising to his feet and brushing the dirt from his clothes. "So, you're now insulting me. Wow, things haven't changed in seven years. I guess I was expecting too much from you. I didn't really expect you to still feel the same towards me. It's been a long time. Feelings change." Harry shrugged, not able to look directly at the stunning blonde in front of him. "I mean, it's not like I even got a chance to talk to you about it."

"I'm here now."

"I…I'm not ready to…do this," Harry sighed, his cheeks burning. "I'm sorry."

Draco sighed, gently taking hold of one of Harry's hands, forcing the other man to look at him. "I don't blame you for being pissed at me, Harry but you have to see it from my point of view. I was an orphan with absolutely no money. The Malfoy name is considered taboo. And then there was you, the great Harry Potter. Can you imagine what being associated with a Malfoy could've done to your reputation? People would have ousted you for being a traitor. You're adoring public would have seen you in a different light. My life was ruined. I wasn't going to ruin yours too."

"It would've been my decision, Draco," he scowled, wrenching his hand free from Draco's. "I never hated you. I just never understood why you acted the way you did towards me. I didn't do anything to you."

Draco's mobile beeped. "I have to go. I have an appointment I have to keep. How about dinner? Tonight?" He ignored his phone's annoying paging. His eyes never strayed from Harry's.

"…Okay."

Draco's grin was infectious as Harry found himself smiling just as brilliantly. "Perfect. I'll pick you up at your place at eight."

"My address is—"

"I know where you live."

Harry stood motionless as Draco disappeared, wondering exactly how things had gone from depressingly pessimistic to brightening optimism. Of course, he had to admit, he was fucking scared.

_Fin_

I was pleased with this chapter. The story's going to delve into both Harry and Draco's relationship and Severus's and Remus' though the latter won't be predominant.

_Peace, Love, and Doughnuts_

_Shiny Ryuichi Sakuma_


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter four

_Title: Perfect Illusion_

_The story doesn't belong to me and inside contains male x male loving!!_

_**Chapter Four**_

Harry's anxiety was driving Remus insane as he watched his young friend throwing clothes from his wardrobe on his bed once he decided against wearing it for his _date_ (though Harry fervently denied it being called _that_.) The werewolf frowned as the pile on Harry's bed started to escalate in alarming proportions with every passing second. "Harry don't you think you're being a bit…anal about this? It's just a friendly meeting."

"A friendly meeting, right. Okay," Harry emerged from his closet with a pair of dark denim jeans slung across one arm and navy blue polo in the other. "This isn't too dressy for it, is it? Does it scream desperate? Or is it-"

"This isn't just a friendly meeting, is it?" Remus asked, starting to fold the clothes strewn across the king sized bed. He glanced at Harry to notice those green eyes widen. Well, at least his surmises were correct. "You can't fool me, Harry. Why don't you stop lying to my and lying to yourself?"

Harry sighed as he started to remove his shirt. "It's not that simple. I hated him. He was nothing but a horrible bastard to me and my friends. But…he kissed me the last day that I saw him. That sort of made everything I once knew seem so…fake, I guess. How could someone that professed every day that he loathed me, kiss me as if he couldn't get enough of me? I was confused but then the end of the war came and I lost some of my memories. I just didn't think that I'd forget the name of the only person that's ever told me that they loved me."

"I tell you all the time," Remus pouted, _trying_ not to stare at the younger man's chiseled body as he stepped out of his trousers, clad in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs that left little to the imagination. Then his eyes drifted to the various scars marring that perfect bronzed skin and any perverse thoughts he had vanished. "But it's not the same. I know. You haven't had anyone that appreciates you and respects you, that doesn't treat you like you're some sort of trophy."

"That's what bugs me the most, Remus," Harry scowled as he buttoned his pants, the jeans provocatively low on his hips. "You'd think more people would want to know _me._ With fame comes a price, right?"

"A price you should of never of had to pay," Remus said quietly, straightening the black strands of hair that fell into Harry's eyes. "If you want to pursue something with Draco then I'm perfectly fine with it. He could do you some good. Besides, maybe you should start dating men. You're record with winning is in the negatives."

Harry frowned, straightening his clothes in the full length mirror. "I don't have anything against being gay but I haven't exactly had experience in that whole area. Seriously, Remus, I think I'm going to be sick. What if he wants to be…boyfriends?" Harry blanched at the word.

Remus laughed, trailing behind Harry as they walked to the front door. "I don't think you're going to have a problem with that. Draco's not a relationship person, Harry. He doesn't do commitments or romance. Don't suddenly expect a bouquet of roses and a box of chocolates. He only uses those tactics for business."

"So you're telling me to have a one-night stand with him?" Harry scowled, watching the street for any cars that were slowing down. "How could you, Mr. Morals, promote such shameless debauchery? You should be ashamed of yourself!" Harry scolded despite the smile curling his lips. "Besides, I don't the first thing about gay fucking."

"Well, you put it-"

"Enough!" Harry hissed, covering his ears with his hands. "I don't want to know. Okay, that must be him," Harry opened the door, seeing a stretch limo stop outside his home. "Do I look okay?"

"Beautiful, like usual."

"I'll see you tomorrow. Wish me luck?" Harry asked, grinning nervously.

"You don't need it but good luck."

Harry turned to wave as he was mid way down the walk. Remus humored him with his own wave. Remus had become a father figure to him over the last several years. He wondered, not for the last time, if Remus would adopt him and make the familial connection they felt permanent. He shuddered. That would mean Severus would be his other father. He wasn't so positive about _that_.

"You must have a rather short attention span," Draco was smirking at him as he sat in the limo. "I see that you and Lupin have a happy home together. Does Severus agree with your relationship or do you all share one another?"

Harry's face turned several shades of red. "It isn't like that! He's my friend. Actually, a father would be a better description of him." It was then that Harry realized how…scrumptious Draco looked. A sky blue button down made his eyes virtually dance. His black trousers were obviously designer made. The un-tucked casualness of the shirt was the only reason Harry didn't feel underdressed in his own attire. "You didn't exactly tell me where we were going."

"I just finished a business meeting with a wealthy foreign investor," Draco stated matter of factly, pouring himself a gin and tonic from the limo's bar. "Thirsty?"

"You have to get drunk in order to spend time with me? Ouch."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I have a high alcohol tolerance. This is nothing to me."

"Why did you ask me out?" Harry asked, fiddling with the corner of the seat, green eyes daring to meet Draco's amused stormy blue ones. "And how the hell did you know where I live?"

"That's easy. Severus told me once a few years back. I didn't forget. And I asked you out because I wanted to."

_That_ was definitely a Malfoy answer. Draco hadn't changed. He was just a more toned down version of the boy that Harry had once known. He was stunning, even more so now that he was older and had grown into his unique features. Harry had been with gorgeous women in his life but none of them had ever set his heart pitter-patting like this. For a man that was previously straight with only a few homosexual glitches; this was scaring the ever living shit out of him. But he couldn't deny that being with Draco wasn't pleasant. It took him back to a time when he didn't have to worry about keeping up appearances, or impressing doting fans on a day to day basis. He was able to be himself and that was perhaps the largest reason that Harry found himself feeling the happiest he'd been in a long, long time. "You mean it has nothing to do with my good looks and charming disposition?"

"Maybe," Draco responded coyly. "That's an added bonus for my own selfish reasons. Seriously, how has everything been? I've been keeping up with you in the papers. You're pretty much a Quidditch God. I think you shocked the hell out of everyone when you announced you were retiring temporarily. Do you see yourself ever returning?"

Harry shrugged. "One day. I don't know. Hermione won't be able to go back to teaching for at least a year. Ron's kind of enforced that rule. Hermione might decide that being a house wife is more rewarding then teaching."

"That book worm?" Draco chuckled. "I doubt it. On the other hand, _you_ might find that you enjoy teaching."

"I don't think there'll be much teaching going on. I think I'll have more of problem with admirers. Do you think they're actually going to listen to me when all they can think about is seeing their idol? Hell, most of them probably don't even remember Voldemort. I wish I could say that same," he murmured, feeling the limo stop. "Where are we?"

"I told you dinner."

Harry muttered thanks to the driver as he stepped onto the ground. "You brought me to a…a diner? What kind of crack are you on?" Harry pursed his lips and stared reproachfully at the small building. He could _smell_ the grease. "In case you've forgotten, I'm globally known. I don't think eating in a place where I'm easily recognized is a good idea."

"It's not an ordinary diner, Harry," Draco said slowly, as if it explaining it to a small child. "The outside is normal as is the most of the interior but the rest is magically enhanced. It's underneath the river."

"Underneath?"

"Did I stutter? Come on," Draco grabbed a hold of Harry's elbow and bullied him towards the front door. "It isn't that bad. I know the owner. He used to do business with me until he opened this place. Hello, Aubrey," Draco greeted a petite blonde, the only person inside the rickety diner. "Does Jayson know that I'm here?"

"Yes, he's been informed of your arrival," the girl bowed her head to Draco as they passed her and entered the kitchen area.

Immediately the interior changed. The rather, _trashy,_ interior vanished into a collage of colors that had Harry's head spinning in seconds and he felt faintly ill as the melting pool of hues. A hand steadied him as his feet began to collapse underneath him. The dank smell of the diner was replaced by aromas of fresh flowers, heavenly repast, and expensive perfumes. Instead of a noisy jukebox and a television set there were sounds of orchestral music, laughing, and the faint hum of water trickling.

"You can open your eyes."

Harry slowly did as he was told and gaped in wonderment at the classiest restaurant he'd ever been in. He was surprised his fish impression didn't cause a general round of laughter throughout. There were hundreds of tables all perfectly secluded but not enough to feel _too_ alone that were covered in silk tablecloths (that must've cost a fortune to replace) and vases (they looked to be Ancient Persian) filled with varying arrays of flowers. Expensive napkins were curled around _gold_ utensils (the order completely lost on Harry who had never learned proper etiquette.) A symphony orchestra was in the middle of the floor and were playing such beautiful music that it made Harry's heart sing with appreciation for the classics. The ceiling was clear and the water from the river could be seen pooling on top of the glass.

His eyes swept through the people, noting that very few were dressed in anything that wasn't designer. He figured even the men's ties were Versace and the women's heels were Chanel. Harry self consciously ran his hand across his plan polo shirt. Well, at least this meant he'd be inquiring further into Draco's _dates_, that is, if this one managed to go as good as Harry hoped it would. Though, he kind of had a sinking impression that this date wouldn't go as smoothly as he'd planned. Draco would probably be embarrassed to be seen with him after wards.

Harry wasn't paying any attention to Draco as he followed numbly behind the blonde towards a corner table that was shrouded by a black paneled screen that must've come from some dynasty in China thousands of years ago (Harry had to wonder _where_ these people found some of the objects inside.) He tonelessly ordered a glass of red wine that had Draco's brows arched in amusement. Seriously, Draco's lax attitude was sort of grating his nerves. "I'm not a pet that you can entertain yourself with."

"You're adorably clueless. Despite all your fame you feel just as uncomfortable in these sorts of situations as you always were," Draco commented, running his finger along the edge of his flute. "It's actually nice to see that the fame hasn't gone completely to your head. You're still the same boy I knew."

"And you aren't," Harry said, unfolding his napkin and placing it on his lap. At least he had that much _right_. "You wouldn't have been caught dead with me in a public place like this years ago. You might've if it meant cursing me in the end. You're different but the same. It's kind of hard to explain."

"I grew up," he simply stated.

"Are you saying I haven't?" Harry scowled, glaring at the blonde.

Draco laughed. "I think you're regressing. You weren't granted a happy childhood like I was. My father didn't show his psychotic nature until after Voldemort returned the second time. By then I was eleven and I didn't need to be constantly coddled. Mother tried. I refused to let her. But she still sent me tons of packages from home." Draco shrugged. "You never got to experience a parent's love until Sirius and then he died and that was that. I guess Lupin has filled those shoes."

"Very well, actually. He loves me like no other has and I know he's the only one that's ever been honest with me and not expected _something_ in return. I half expect Severus of making him keep mum about you."

"I wouldn't doubt it. My godfather wears the pants in their relationship," Draco smiled wickedly at the blush mantling Harry's cheeks. "Lupin might be an all powerful werewolf but I think he _wants_ to be taken care of. They're a perfect match for each other and the only two from their school days left. It was only fitting that they managed to find each other and forget all their stupid rivalries."

"That's what we're doing, isn't it?"

Draco's eyes danced. "You could say that."

Harry resisted tapping his foot against the legs of the table as the orchestras music reached an upbeat tempo. Couples were already clamoring towards the floor. That was another aspect of life he never learned; dancing. His two left feet were hopelessly awkward and no amount of practicing would ever help. "Do you want to dance?" Draco's voice snapped Harry from his own little world.

"What?"

"Dance. You and me."

"Um, we're kind of the only men that would be dancing. Together. I don't think that's a good idea. I mean, not that I give a damn about what people think about me but I'm not exactly thrilled to see my name in the headlines every day and something like this would definitely be there. I'm not ready. I don't even know what I am. Well, I _know_ but, yeah, I'm shutting up now," he said, flushing at Draco's dead-panned stare.

"That's fine. I knew you were always a coward but-"

"I'm not a coward," Harry seethed, "Let's go," he snapped, getting to his feet and holding his hand out towards Draco.

"No, I wouldn't want to put you in a position that might compromise your exalted name," Draco drawled lazily, eyeing the other man with a lethargic look. "Besides, dancing is hardly your forte as we saw at the Yule Ball."

"I said, _come on,"_ Harry commanded, grabbing Draco's hand and dragging him onto the floor. The stares and whispers were unnerving as all attentions were focused solely on them, those already dancing came to a complete pause and gave way for them. He could have done without the interest but he wasn't about to back down and give Draco any reason to call him a coward _again_.

_Fin_

Ah, that's the end of the chapter!! You'll see the dance next chapter

Thanks for reviewing, I appreciate it. It gives me motivation. :D

_Peace, Love, and Doughnuts_

_Shiny Ryuichi Sakuma_


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